Reviews

Yet, thanks to a couple of lines of fairy lights, a huddled island of amps and what appeared to be her sitting-room piano, that’s exactly what PJ Harvey did.

PJ Harvey (pic: Shirlaine Forrest)

It wasn’t just down to the props. Polly Jean’s triumph tonight came from her set list as much as her set-up, a free-wheeling ride through some of the most vicious, beautiful and ultimately unique moments of her astonishing back catalogue.

Resplendent in a white ball gown that only she could get away with, she rocked her way through Big Exit and Snake, twisted Down By The Water round an autoharp, delivered a haunting take on Nina In Ecstasy and roared out a visceral Rid Of Me.

It was that piano though, that provided the extra special moments, revealing as it did four new songs, White Chalk, The Mountain, Silence and The Devil, the latter being led by a metronome because, as the self-professed novice piano player put it, "I have a right hand that wanders like a lost sheep."

PJ Harvey (pic: Shirlaine Forrest)

It wasn’t the only time that her honesty cut through to enhance that intimacy. En route to her finale, an acoustic-led breath-holding Desperate Kingdom Of Love, she revealed that she finds her solo show "terrifying", that she thinks herself "bloody mad" to be doing it, and that, rather sweetly, she gets a "warm feeling" from her audiences these days, because "we’ve grown up and are growing old together".

In fact, she was even moved enough to insist that if she was still doing this in 30 years’ time, "we must all do this then." It was a statement that garnered one of the biggest cheers of the night and no wonder.

Uniquely capable of switching from shimmering to shattering in the space of a song, PJ Harvey is one of the world’s finest and most interesting artists. Roll on the next three decades.